The End of Days (The Soul Stone Trilogy Book 3)

by Matt Moss

“Or else, what?” Rico said.

  Cain looked to Rico. “Or else you’re no better than him.”

  Rico met Cain’s gaze for a moment before the blade left his hand. It sunk into the wall beside Cain’s head with a thud, burying the knife to the hilt. Unflinching, Cain gave Rico a tired look. “Don’t make me cut off your other hand.”

  “Maybe then it would be a fair fight between you and me,” Rico said and got up to retrieve the knife. He sat back down and looked at his missing hand. “It’s an odd feeling, you know? Sometimes, it feels like it’s still there.”

  Cain looked down. “I am truly sorry, Rico. It was unintended.”

  “I know,” Rico said. “Besides, I’m the one to blame. I lost control.”

  “I’m sorry about Jenny. I know you loved her.”

  Rico looked out the far window as he spoke. “Our love for each other came out of nowhere. I didn’t intend to give so much of myself to her, as I’ve never done to anyone in the past. But something about her pulled at me and I couldn’t resist.” He looked into Cain’s eyes. “I loved her with all of my heart. To do this; that is one of the greatest powers that can be had in this life.”

  Cain nodded in agreement and looked at the floor. “I know what you mean.”

  “You got someone, do you? Then you know what I’m talking about.”

  Cain rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. It’s not the same, though. I don’t think she feels for me the same way I do for her.”

  Rico put the blade away and rubbed at his missing hand. “How do you know? Have you told her how you feel?”

  Cain shook his head. “Sort of, but maybe I didn’t convey my feelings enough. Either way, she shot me down.”

  Rico leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look. The world could end tomorrow. Not likely, but what I’m saying is that there’s a chance you’ll never get to tell her how you really feel. The dawn is never promised and we’re not guaranteed another day. I say give it another chance.”

  Cain looked into Rico’s eyes. “You’re right. I will tell her again. And this time, I’ll hold nothing back. Thank you, Rico.”

  Rico eased back into the chair. “Think nothing of it. Just a little advice from a man who’s made many mistakes in his life.”

  Cain pointed at Rico’s hand. “When are you going to let him heal you?”

  Rico spat to the side. “I’ll cut the other one off before that happens.”

  “All you have to do is say you’re sorry. Say you’ll do better from now on and ask for his forgiveness.”

  Rico looked Cain in the eye. “I’d rather be burned alive, saved only by the piss of a thousand dogs.”

  Cain stood in frustration. “I was like you, once. Mangled, deformed, broken… but he made me whole again. Let go of your pride. It’s clouding your better judgement.”

  “And for what price did you sell your soul?” Rico replied. Cain stared into his eyes with no reply. Rico nodded. “That’s what I thought. I sell my soul to no man.”

  “I didn’t sell my soul,” Cain stated.

  Rico stood and placed his hand on Cain’s shoulder. “Perhaps, if you’re lucky, you may get it back one day. Almighty save you if you don’t.” He moved for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Cain asked.

  Rico turned back to him and threw his arms out. “We’ve got more heretics to kill, remember? Time’s wasting. Chop, chop.”

  Cain shook his head. “I’m done with that. I can’t do it anymore. It’s not right.”

  Rico shook his head. “Then you better not let Victor know.” He breathed deep and turned his head to the side. “Look, I’ll cover for you in case anyone asks. We’ve only got one more city to go through, then it will be done and over with.”

  “It will never be done and over with. You know that.” Cain tossed his sword to the side, the blade clanging against the wood floor.

  Rico looked to the blade, then back to Cain. “Yeah, I know.” He threw a pack around his shoulder and opened the door. He turned back to Cain. “Take care of yourself, you hear?”

  “You, too, Rico. Thank you.” Before Rico left, Cain questioned him. “Rico, why don’t you care about anything anymore?”

  Rico paused at the doorway and turned to speak. “I thought you would be the last person who would need an explanation.”

  Cain looked at his sword that lie on the floor after Rico left.

  His thoughts were focused, intent on one thing. Not Victor or the Religion, or the danger he was in by disobeying the high priest. He thought of Lyla. She filled his mind and broke his heart—longing to be with her and wishing that she would feel the same way. Why couldn’t they be together? Because of Arkin? They felt something, once. Together, they shared a moment in time, sealed with a kiss.

  There was something there, Lyla. I know you feel it, too.

  He would confess his love for her and hold true to his feelings.

  Soon. I’ll come for you, soon.

  TWENTY-NINE

  The Grand Highlands was alive once more. Gauntlet day had arrived in celebration, as the villagers had rebuilt much of the town over the last few months. With the toils of their labor, there wasn’t much time for anything else, so Arkin thought it would be a good idea to relax and enjoy each other’s company.

  “Arkin, you still haven’t finished your run from last time,” a young boy said with admiration, recalling when Arkin ran the Gauntlet the first time.

  Arkin knelt down and grinned at the young boy. “I’ll have to finish what I started then, won’t I? Would you like to see that?” He furrowed his brow and put a hand to his chin. “Or are you just wanting to see me fall into the water?”

  The child laughed. “You can’t fall. You’re Arkin. You can do anything!”

  Arkin messed up the boy’s hair before the child ran off to tell his friends.

  Lyla walked up to Arkin and wrapped her arm around him. “Yes, you can do anything.”

  He turned his head and kissed her lips. “If only that were true.” His hand went to her stomach. “How’s the little one coming along?”

  She put her hand on his. “Well, I think. I can feel it starting to move around, ever so slightly.”

  He bent low and pressed his face against her womb. Softly, he spoke. “Hello, little one. Who are you going to be?” He nuzzled his face in closer. “Don’t be giving your mom any more trouble, you hear?” he said playfully.

  She looked to the sky in relief. “Thank goodness the sickness has passed. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever be normal again.”

  “I know that was a rough patch you went through. I couldn’t be more proud of you for going through all of this, Lyla,” Arkin said and brushed the side of her cheek. “I can only imagine what you’re going through. If it were reversed, I don’t think I could do it.”

  She waved him off. “Nonsense. It’s natural. For women, that is. You of all people should know that the human body is capable of this and so much more. But even if you could, I don’t think you could handle it, either.”

  He smiled and kissed her head. “I love you so much.” She tucked herself into him and confided in his trust. “C’mon,” he said. “Lets go celebrate with the others.”

  As they walked to the gauntlet, Torin was standing at the starting point preparing for his run. Arkin and Lyla cheered him on as he waited for the signal to go. The crowd hushed in anticipation. When the whistle came, Torin blasted from the platform and onto the Seven Steps. Three strides was all it took to trip the big man up, and he crashed into the water. Everyone burst out with laughter as Torin rose from the muddy swell, his fist crashing against the water with a splash. He walked up to Arkin and Lyla.

  “Nice run,” Arkin said, stifling a snort.

  “Yes. Well done,” Lyla said, almost bursting with laughter.

  Torin wiped the muddy water from his face and blew the remains from his mouth. His long hair draped over his face and onto his shoulders, soiled. His entire body, brown and soaked.
“Did you enjoy the show?” he asked.

  Arkin put a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “You know, I thought a member of the Order—a leader at that—would at least pass the first obstacle. It’s a good thing I didn’t bet on you.”

  Torin’s gaze went serious. “You can bet on me stomping your ass in about five seconds, boy. One...”

  Arkin looked to Lyla and her eyes went wide at the statement. He looked back to Torin and found the man serious. Like a shot, he ran away, bolting across the grounds. Torin gave chase and the crowd laughed out loud, pointing and cheering Arkin along. In jest, Arkin made his way to the starting platform ahead of Torin and crossed the Seven Steps with ease. When he landed safely on the other side, the people applauded, making Torin even angrier. The big man set himself upon the platform, ready to attempt the steps again.

  Arkin wagged his finger at him.

  Torin clenched his jaw, and clumsily made his way across the steps. When Arkin saw the big man coming at him, he leapt onto the Spider Climb, desperate to escape. It was half-hearted, though—feigned for the appeasement of the crowd and good nature towards Torin—and he crashed into the muddy water below. Above him, Torin laughed and pointed. “Behold! Even the prodigy himself is all wet.”

  Drowning, Arkin splashed around, gasping for breath, reaching a hand to Torin for help. The big man, laughing at first, took him more serious after he went under the water for quite some time. “Arkin, I’m not falling for it. You can touch the bottom. Stand up, you fool.” His eyes peered into the murky water as bubbles formed on the surface, Arkin nowhere to be seen.

  “Torin, save him. He can’t swim!” Lyla shouted. The crowd echoed her cry, the air filled with desperation. Nervously, Torin didn’t know what to do. Just before he jumped in, Arkin emerged from the water, gasping for air. In one last, desperate attempt, he reached for Torin’s hand.

  “I’ve got you,” Torin said, gripping tight onto Arkin’s hand. Arkin spat out water as Torin hauled him closer to safety. At the platform, he began to raise Arkin up. He quickly became as heavy as a rock, and Torin looked at him with confusion. A mischievous smile crept across Arkin’s face as he firmly grasped Torin’s hand. Torin’s face twisted in revelation. “You son of a…”

  SPLASH

  The crowd breathed a sigh of relief before bursting out with laughter. Torin rose from the water in fury as Arkin climbed upon the platform. He bowed in show to the appeasement of the crowd as Torin splashed towards him, giving chase once more.

  Arkin ran to Lyla and gripped her by the shoulders. “Help me!” he pleaded. With Torin close behind, he let her go and ran away in a flash.

  Torin stormed past her, bent on catching Arkin. “Don’t let me catch you, you sumbitch.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Boys will be boys.”

  The rising of the sun beckoned Arkin to leave.

  Lyla kissed Arkin goodbye. He caressed her cheek. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

  “Promise?” she said, her eyes staring deep into his.

  He brushed her blonde hair aside and gave her another kiss. “Promise.”

  “Alright, already. Enough’s enough. Let’s go,” Torin said, shoving by with loaded packs. Arkin glared at him and shook his head. Lyla laughed and kissed Arkin one last time. “Have a good trip.”

  Arkin thumbed towards Torin. “If I can survive him.”

  “I heard that,” Torin grumbled as he tied the packs to the horses. He jumped on top of his mount and grabbed the reigns. “Let’s go, boy,” he said, looking to Arkin.

  “You talking to me or the horse?” Arkin replied.

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m going to kill him,” Arkin told Lyla. She smiled and took his hand. He pulled her close. “Every moment I’m away will be spent with thoughts of you.”

  “So romantic," Lyla said in jest. She kissed him on the lips once more and pushed him away. “Go on, now.” Arkin winked at her as he walked away. Jumping atop his horse, he looked to Torin. The big man shook his head and kicked the horse on with a clicking sound from his mouth.

  The two men left the camp and didn’t speak for a time, relishing in the silence and remembering their friends at home. The weather was favorable, but the bite of early winter wind still blew across the land. Arkin pulled the worn cloak tight against his head and rode up beside Torin. “So, do you think Maximus will change his mind?”

  Torin sucked air through his teeth as he pondered the question. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

  Stonebridge was larger than Arkin expected. He’d heard stories of the city made famous for its shipping, being located on the coast and near to Kingsport, but he didn’t think it would be so large. The streets were overcrowded with people, which made getting anywhere fast nearly impossible. Luckily, he had Torin with him and followed close as the big man plowed through the crowd.

  Arkin found amusement when someone would curse and turn to Torin, looking to give him the sharp edge of their tongue or worse, then quickly check themselves upon seeing who it was that bumped them. Torin wasn’t bothered by it, and almost found pleasure in shoving his way through the crowd.

  “I think you like this too much,” Arkin called to him above the noise.

  “I don’t like crowds,” Torin growled back, and forged ahead.

  A preacher on the corner caught Arkin’s ear. “The end of days is nigh. Make ready and confess your sins to the Almighty. The Religion cannot save you. The high priest cannot save you.” The man, dressed in ragged clothes, shouted over the heads of the people, standing on top of a barrel. “Heed my warning. The end is near.”

  A few curses were thrown at the man, but most either laughed or ignored him as they carried on about their business. Arkin saw the passion in the old man’s eyes, and the look of disappointment on his face when he realized that nobody was listening.

  All he wants to do is help. Unfortunately, in a world full of voices, words often fall flat. It takes action to make a difference.

  The sound of the preacher faded away as Arkin pressed on. He looked up and saw the governor’s keep. “There it is, Torin.”

  “I can see it,” he grumbled and kept his head tucked, body square, and feet sure.

  Walking to the steps of the keep, the guards met them.

  “We’ve come to see Maximus. Tell him Torin is here,” Torin told one of the men. The guard raised his mask. “Torin? From the Order?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Maximus thought you might be back. In fact, he’s eagerly been waiting for you to return. Come with me,” the man said and began walking up the steps.

  Arkin met Torin’s eye and shrugged. They followed the guard into the governor’s keep.

  Through the stone keep they ascended, through halls and up steps, higher and higher. Arkin marveled at the city through a window in passing. “Torin, look. I’ve never seen so many ships in my life.”

  Torin leaned over to steal a view from the small window. “Aye. Neither have I.”

  “What’s that all about?” Arkin asked.

  “I don’t know. Looks like they’re getting ready for something big,” Torin noted. They followed the lonely guard down the long hall until, at the end, he stopped at a door, turned, and clicked his heels together. He knocked and announced himself and the guests. The door opened.

  “Torin. Please, come in. I’ve been waiting to speak to you again,” Maximus said, extending his hand in invitation.

  “Greetings, Maximus,” Torin said and entered the room. He threw a thumb back towards Arkin in passing. “Don’t mind the boy.”

  Arkin shook his head and looked into the eyes of Maximus. He offered his hand in meeting the governor for the first time. “Arkin,” he said.

  Maximus hesitated in greeting for a moment, his eyes locked onto Arkin’s. Taken aback at first, he gathered his senses and blinked a couple times. “I am governor Maximus. Make yourself at home.”

  Something about the governor’s eyes
looked familiar to Arkin but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Have we met before? Strange, but for some reason I feel that we have.”

  “I would think not. But it’s hard to say. I deal with many people, being the governor of the independent cities as well as Stonebridge. Though, I rarely forget a face, and yours doesn’t strike a bell for me.”

  Arkin narrowed his gaze, unable to take his eyes away from Maximus. He blinked and politely smiled. “You’re right. I’m sure we’ve never met before. I would remember someone of your stature.”

  “You’re too kind,” Maximus replied and offered Arkin passage into the room. “Please, have a seat.” He closed the door and met his guests in the middle of the room. “Care for a drink?”

  “Much obliged. Ale, whiskey, it doesn’t matter,” Torin said.

  “Anything is fine,” Arkin said, and looked around the grand room to the weapons that hung on the walls in decoration—relics from many battles won. At least that’s what Arkin had heard about the governor’s collection. Whether the rumors of his trophies were true or fabricated, it was an impressive collection, nonetheless. The long table that could seat twenty men caught Arkin’s eye, and he wondered how many victories had been planned over the large slab of wood. Behind the table was the governor’s balcony which overlooked the city. Everything was stone, cold—presumably like Maximus as his reputation preceded him. Probably what makes him such a good leader, Arkin thought.

  Emotions must be cast aside and personal allegiances, abandoned. The best leaders stand for the greater good of the whole, and when making decisions based upon the needs of the majority, others will fall by the wayside. A leader must become like stone, and cold to emotions that would cloud the better judgement. For the people, and for sanity.

  Maximus brought whiskey to his guests.

  “You’re not drinking?” Torin asked and raised an eye.

  The governor waved a hand. “I don’t drink. Not for want, mind you. I just have a hard time stopping and it is early in the day.”

  Arkin tasted the whiskey and thought back to the time with Jamesh, back at the Grand Highlands. Except the governor’s whiskey was much better. Torin drank and looked at his cup. “I don’t know if I trust a man that doesn’t drink with his guests.”